I was provided with an ample outfit at home, and departed amid the tears of my good uncle and affectionate sisters. I proceeded by the usual route to Independence, Missouri, where I made inquiries of the trains which were constantly leaving the point for Oregon and California. In my wanderings, I stumbled upon Nat Todd, my present companion. He had just arrived from his distant home, where he had left a widowed mother and a disconsolate sweetheart. But he said he was going to return, in just two years from the day he left, with a "rousing heap" of money, and intended to buy "Squire Hunt's farm," take Alminy down there, and live the rest of his life. His frankness and humor impressed me favorably; and, after a short conversation, we grasped hands, and swore to remain by each other till our adventures were terminated by death or a happy _dénouement_.
We engaged places in a train which left the next day. This company numbered nigh two hundred persons, and was composed of all kinds of characters, except females. There were French _voyageurs_, Irishmen, and an agent of one of the western fur companies, and the majority of the rest were those just from the plow or the workshop. They had secured the services of an experienced guide, and were well equipped for the perilous journey before them.
The overland route, at this time, was so alive with passing emigrants, that few depredations were committed by the Indians. The savages sometimes hung around companies, but as there were almost always other whites in sight, they rarely ventured upon any greater crime than pilfering. Nothing worthy of note occurred upon the journey for a length of time. We experienced the usual mishaps and trials of emigrants, but nothing more startling. We sometimes lost a part of our baggage and provisions in crossing the rivers, and were greatly discomforted by the terrific storms which often rage in these regions. Then, again, we traveled mile after mile, and hour after hour upon the dry, monotonous, glistening rolling prairie, so wearied and tired of the scene that we hardly exchanged a syllable for hours at a stretch.
At last, the plains of Kansas were reached. On the day in which I introduce my friend and myself to notice, we had descried a solitary antelope at a great distance upon the prairie, and set out to bring it down. We left our horses behind, hoping to reach the animal by stratagem. I approached it near enough to wound it, when it made off with the speed of the wind. Expecting to see it give out each moment, we followed it mile after mile, until gathering darkness warned us that night was at hand, when we halted in alarm, and were compelled to allow the antelope to escape, while we endeavored to retrace our steps. The caravan was nowhere in sight, and we doubted not that it had disappeared hours before. We left the train about noon, and had been warned that they would not halt or wait for us, and should we lose them, they would take no pains to hunt us up. But we heeded not this, as we expected to keep them constantly in view, and have the antelope cooked for our supper.